


Can't Get Up- Prompt Fill

by captaincravatthecapricious



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Concussions, Dizziness, Fainting, Fever, Food mention, Gen, M/M, Nausea, No beta we kayak like Tim, Sick Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sickfic, Vertigo - Freeform, Vomiting, alcohol mention, canon typical self destruction, mentions of suicidal ideation (just a little in chapter three more content in chapter summary)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28055544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaincravatthecapricious/pseuds/captaincravatthecapricious
Summary: This is sort of a continuation of Janekfan's too much, but can be read on its own.  After Jon's hell week he's a wreck.  Set sometime after episode 92.  He's concussed and has a lingering fever that has rendered him unable to do much of anything.  Martin and Tim (who is working on not hating Jon) look after him.
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/ Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Comments: 52
Kudos: 239





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Janekfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janekfan/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Too Much](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26972698) by [Janekfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janekfan/pseuds/Janekfan). 



> Cw dizziness, fainting, fever, concussion, and canon typical being mean to Jon

The lingering fever left over from Jon’s (to Martin’s and Tim’s lack of information: mysterious and) hellish few days continued to do just that... linger.  
Burned and bruised. Concussed and dizzy.  
The fever was never overly dangerous, but it sapped Jon’s already basically nonexistent reserve of energy. And it just... lingered. Lingers.  
It's better now that Tim and Jon had some sort of talk, but neither of them really know how they stand with the other.  
Well, it is better for Jon because he has two people who give a shit if he collapses in the hall now. And better for Martin because one less person is going to actively try to hurt Jon. And better for Tim because he’s missed his friend. But it’s still awkward.  
Tim watches Jon drag himself from the cot another morning. It was Tim that stayed with him last night, Martin's turn tonight. Jon is scared and confused and shouldn't be left alone. Not when he screams himself awake every couple hours. Not when gets so dizzy that he loses track of what he is meant to be doing.  
Jon has been trying to push through. Trying to work. To make himself useful. To help save the world. To work himself into the ground so he doesn't think about how shitty everything has been for him.  
Tim watches him drag himself up, and crumple right back down again. Tim managing to break his fall. Again. He should text Martin. He does text Martin.  
Jon blinks up fuzzily at him after just a few seconds.  
"Sorry," Jon slurs.  
"Stop that," Tim says, not unkindly. Still trying to remember how to be kind with this fragile little man.  
"I need... 'Sira need me to... I should get up." Jon is still struggling for words, eyes slipping closed, making no move to push himself from Tim's chest, where Tim has been pillowing him.  
Jon might be asleep again. It's hard to tell. Tim presses a hand to Jon's forehead, confirming it still too warm, but not worse, and returns to his seemingly endless playing with Jon's hair.  
It is still a bit before hours, so he doesn't expect Martin to appear the next moment, more like in the next half hour, depending on the crowds and the tube. But, when he hears footsteps approaching he feels relief, until he realizes those aren't Martin's footsteps. Too sharp. Still heavy, bit not heavy enough. Jon did mention needing to get something to Basira.  
No one has... talked to Tim about his ....calling it a change of heart sounds stupid. He isn't going to call it that. He didn't have a change of heart, per se. He just realized he had his head up his ass and was honestly just as bad as Jon in some ways. Not to mention, he couldn't keep blaming Jon when Jon was basically just an unlucky punching bag, now with the added flavor or concussed and feverish.  
"Right," says Basira, pushing open the door after a single, sharp knock. Pulling Jon from his uneasy sleep.  
He scrambles upright. Too fast, sending him into a swoon for the second time in just a few minutes.  
"Did you find those files? I need them if we want to actually stop the circus, and not just have a slumber party." There is clearly judgement in her eyes.  
Tim, who caught Jon for the second time this morning, has an arm around him protectively.  
Jon is coming around again. "Mmm wh'?" He forces his eyes open against the light Basira flipped on upon her entrance, eyes crossing as he tries to bring Basira into focus.  
"Jon, look. We really don't have time for... whatever this is. Just get up and do something useful or just leave. And leave the rest of us to clean up this mess." It isn't that she is outright mean. Not like Daisy. Not hostile like Melanie. But cold. Which.... Tim shouldn't begrudge her for, but he wants to. Was she there when Jon was beaten? Tim's seen those bruises. Still dark and angry. Jon still cries out when handled roughly, or when handled gently but not gently enough.  
Was she there? Was she complicit in this mess? And if she was... if she watched Jon get beaten by her partner. If she was one of the faces that stood over Jon while he dug a grave... and just waltzed back in here demanding Jon to help. Jon who can't even stay conscious... Who has been feverish and incoherent...  
Who is she to do that?  
...Footsteps.  
Martin.  
Good. Tim doesn't know what to do. His instinct is to protect. To push away. To fight. But can he trust that instinct? When that's what he accused Jon of doing? What he, himself had done?  
"Morning Basira, do you think I can get through? Jon's been a bit poorly and I rather doubt you looming over him is going to help."  
Martin. God bless Martin.  
She scowls but stands aside.  
Martin, studiously ignores her.  
Tim would rather like to kiss him.  
Jon is still having trouble following the conversation. But he visibly brightens when Martin steps into view. Martin checks his temperature with the inside of his wrist. He tuts gently at Jon, who still seems too dizzy to sit up on his own.  
"So...?" Basira. Reminding the three of them that she is, in fact there.  
"Sorry," mumbles Jon, still barely coherent, and certainly not aware of what he was apologizing for this time. A reflex that makes Tim shudder.  
"I'll do it myself." She turns on her heal and leaves. Shutting the door a bit too hardly, and Jon flinches.  
"Hey, Jon. How are you feeling?" Tim scoots over as gently as he can so as not to jostle Jon too much. He makes room for Martin next to them.  
Jon's eyes flicker closed again. Tim isn't sure if he's lost consciousness again or if he's just closed his eyes against the dizziness.  
Martin watches with worry etched on is face. "How's he doing?"  
Tim pulls a face. "Not worse, I don't think... but not better. Still getting nightmares. But he's passed out on me twice, though. Not sure what to do about that. Could be the vertigo, could be a panic response, could be the fever, hell it could be dehydration or hunger. We haven't gotten much food in him." Tim yawns. It has been a painfully long few days. And he's only gotten the chance to sleep every other night.  
"Maybe... one of us should take him home?" Martin has lost some of that self confidence that he managed to put up around Basira. Probably because Tim know's Martin's flat wouldn't be comfortable for two or three people. Probably because Martin isn't sure just how far Tim is willing to be put out on Jon's behalf.  
Then again. It is a bit too late not to be involved. Because Jon cannot seem to get up without passing out and so Tim has just been cuddling him for hours.  
"I can take him to mine. I have more space." He offers a tired smile, sparing Martin the halting questions, and Tim the hurt of knowing he isn't fully trusted anymore. Not that he blames Martin for that. He made his bed, now he'll lay in it. Shit, did he make his bed? Well they are about to find out. "You call a cab, I'll see if I can wake him?"  
Martin nods, and makes to do that. Exiting the room to spare Jon the extra volume.  
"Hey Jon?" Tim runs his free hand through Jon's hair for a few moments. Watching Jon's eyes slowly flicker open.  
"Mmmmm." Jon's bandaged hands holding on to his shirt. Too-warm forehead pressed against his chest.  
"Is it alright if I take you home?"  
"What 'bout work?" Jon's mouth barely able to form the words. Can't see straight enough to read anything.  
"Bud, how exactly did you plan to do any work?"  
Jon tries to focus his eyes. And his words. He only manages to squint slightly.  
"We tried letting you work, but you aren't getting better, how about you take a couple days to get better, then you can come back and we can save the world? Besides. Shouldn't do work with a concussion. Don't want brain damage, do you?" Tim starts slowly easing Jon upright, only to have Jon's eyes roll back. Again. "Shit!"  
"You both okay?" Martin's back. Good. Tim doesn't know what to do.  
"Well I woke him up, but when I tried sitting him up, he fainted on me again."  
Martin tuts again, and sits back next to them to check on Jon for himself. "Maybe we should move him while he's out to spare him the trip. The cab will be here soon."  
Tim shrugs and slowly gets to his feet. Maneuvering Jon into a bridal carry as he does so. "Now we just gotta make sure that the cabbie doesn't think we are kidnapping him."  
Matin flutters around, wanting to make sure the position will be comfortable enough for Jon when he eventually comes around. "It'll be fine. He should be conscious by then."  
"Yeah and what do we say, our boss had a bit too much to drink at..." He searches for the wall clock. "9:30 in the morning."  
"We say we're from the Magnus Institute, and they will ignore everything about us, Tim."  
Tim... still needs to get used to this side of Martin. He kind of loves it when the bitterness isn't aimed at him.  
Jon comes around again and they pass the others in the bullpen, clinging tightly to Tim's shirt until the sudden change of level of the stairs makes him dizzier and his head ache, if the small, fragile sounds he is making are any indication. 

Martin is right. The cabbie doesn't a single question once he sees the building they are standing in front of. 

Martin makes tea. Tim makes soup. And Jon is tucked tightly in Tim's bed for the first time in over a year.


	2. Is That Your Blood- Prompt Fill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon is missing. Martin and Tim need to get him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw blood, references to nonconsensual touching canon typical of the circus, canon typical levels of Tim being self destructive

Jon is missing.   
Tim should have known it immediately. He should have noticed the second he was gone. But Jon had gone to see Georgie, and wasn’t clear if he was planning on staying with her or going back to Tim’s flat. He should have known Jon would have come back if he could. He had been glued to either Martin’s or Tim’s side.   
Just barely well enough to work. Still small and weak and breakable. Still occasionally dizzy. Still aching headed when he worked for too long. Hands still painful and sore.   
And he’s gone. And Tim should have known sooner.   
And there is one smug bastard who could tell him where Jon is, but the slimy twat just gives him a placid smile saying “he doesn’t know.” Utter bullshit.   
Which is why Martin and Tim have a whole box of statements and a lighter.   
When Elias storms out of his office, Tim gives him the most innocent of smiles, as if he isn’t actively holding a burning statement in the middle of the hall. “Oh hey, double boss, how’s it hanging?”   
Elias looks very very angry, but also like he is trying to look nonplussed. And failing. “These documents are for archiving, not kindling. There will be repercussions for these actions.”   
Tim drops his smile. “And there are repercussions for whatever you’ve done to Jon. I don’t care what you do to me, I’ll set the whole archives alight if you don’t tell me where he is.”   
Something dangerous and self destructive and manic must have shown on Tim’s face, because Elias grumble something about it probably being long enough anyhow and finally gives them an address, which Martin is scribbling down before Elias can even turn on his heel.   
“Well that went well!” Says Tim brightly.   
Martim hmmmms. “We might want to be concerned about those repercussions? But… we can worry about that once Jon is back.”   
Tim snorts. “What can he do? Not like he can even fire us. And if he does, we’re better off.”  
Martin drops his burning statement in the bin, looking unreasonably disappointed about the lack of continued arson that they would be committing, (or rather wouldn’t be committing). “But you won’t leave until we’ve stopped the Unknowing.”  
Tim’s face darkens again. He can feel it, and he doesn’t care at all. “You’re right.”   
“Right… You will try and come back from it… Please?”  
Tim shrugs. “Ask me once we get Jon back.”

The drive to the wax museum is tense. Things are easier between Martin and Tim than they have been in months, but their shared concern is palpable. Jon is missing. Jon is kidnapped. Jon is possibly hurt. The circus has Jon. The Circus. That Circus Tim has screamed himself awake over more nights than he can count. And he wishes that he could just set the whole thing on fire right now. he doesn’t want to wait, now that he knows where they are.  
Fuck caution. Fuck everything. He wants his revenge.   
But… but Jon.   
He can’t lose Jon.   
Not like he lost…..  
He can’t even think their names without shattering like thin glass dropped in boiling water. 

They find Jon. He isn't guarded. He's tied to a chair, very naked, very bruised, and very bloody. He's suspiciously shiny looking and smells strongly of something artificial and floral.   
He's shivering. And Tim's blood boils.   
Jon was just starting to heal! And Tim knows the heavy bruising might partly be due to EDS, but this is absurd. He shouldn't be bruised at all!   
Jon is hunched over, small and shaking and barely conscious. Hiding from the world behind his tangled and greasy hair.   
"Shit, Jon, is that all your blood?" Martin squeaks.   
It is, clearly. Jon isn't with it enough to even notice them, but the blood on his face and chest is clearly from a bloody nose, and the blood on his wrists and ankles look to be from where the rope is biting into him.   
Martin rushes forward. Tim is frozen in place. Frozen in anger and terror, just like he had been all there's years ago. This won't happen again. This can't happen again. He can't survive losing someone else to this... whatever the HELL this is. He can't do it. Not again.   
Jon screams the moment Martin touches him. Or tries to. It's then that Tim notices the gag in Jon's mouth.   
That does it. THOSE FUCKING BASTARDS THEY COULD HAVE KILLED JON. JON HAS ATHSMA. HE COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED. HE COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED THEY COULD HAVE BEEN TOO LATE. JON COULD HAVE DIED BECAUSE OF A STUPID CLOTH IN HIS MOUTH.   
While Tim is trying not to scream or punch a wall or spontaneously combust, Martin is speaking softly to Jon, probably trying to get Jon to recognize him as something real and tangible and not a threat. Tim sees Jon timidly nod in response to Something Martin says, and Martin gently removes the gag. Touching Jon as little as possible.   
Jon starts sobbing.   
Tim can see Martin's heart break.   
Jon had been getting so affectionate with them. Leaning into every touch, instead of backing away. Now... he's more skittish than ever. Tim takes a few deep breaths before finally walking over.   
"Hey, buddy. Do you think I could untie you?"   
Jon stares at him for a long moment.   
Tim raises his hands so Jon can see he doesn't have any weapons or anything.   
Jon slowly nods, twisting painfully in his seat so he can watch. His movement tightening his bonds. Making Tim's job considerably harder, but... that's fine. Keeping Jon calm is important.   
Tim's goal has to stay saving Jon, and if he sees any member of the Circus, he is sure to lose sight of that in favor of revenge, consequences be damned.   
They get Jon free, and he immediately curls into a stiff little ball, whimpering. Crying harder when anyone tries to touch him. Tim goes to fetch a blanket from his car. Jon might feel a little less afraid if he is less exposed. Not to mention, Tim would like to keep his car not blood-soaked if he has the option. And he wants to keep Jon warm. That should be his top priority.   
It quickly becomes apparently that Jon can't walk. He can barely move. Sore from the bruises and being tied up.   
"Jon, would it be alright to pick you up? We need to get out of here." Martin. God bless his gentle voice. God bless Jon's infatuation. Jon bites his lip hard, but nods. He's wrapped tightly in the blanket now, face half hidden in it, flakes of dried blood starting to come loose from his face and decorating the blanket. He flinches away from the hands lifting him, and he bites back a whimper, then a scream. And Tim isn't sure if it's the horror of whatever he's been through, or the pain he's in, or the lingering vertigo, but he is hurting and it breaks Tim's heart. 

They make it out. Martin spends the several hour drive in the backseat. Trying to get some water and painkillers and dramamine into Jon. (The last thing Jon needs s to be carsick in this state). Jon just shivers and weeps. Eventually trusting Martin enough to cling to him like he is the only solid thing in the world. 

By the time they reach Tim's flat, Jon is calm enough that he lets Tim and Martin guide him to the bath tub. Jon very, very timidly consents to them helping him wash up. (And only after he had been left alone in the tub and almost fainted trying to stand to shower and bringing all the soaps crashing down around him.)   
Tim gets to work on his hair, while Martin gently starts working the blood and grime and... is that lotion? off of Jon.   
Jon slowly relaxes. Slowly starts to realize that he is really back with Martin and Tim. That they won't touch anywhere that he doesn't want them to. And he goes effectively boneless when the tub is drained, and Tim gives him a last rince with the shower, just as Tim knows Jon appreciates. That gains him a weak smile as Tim narrates what he is doing, which also seems to calm Jon. The only time he panicked during the process is when one of them touched him when his eyes slipped closed. Jon had done his best to keep his eyes open after that. But... by the end he couldn't manage it anymore. Sinking into the touch as Tim had gotten used to him doing.   
Tim cooks that night. Jon wrapped in blankets, dozing fitfully on Martin, as Martin carefully keeps his hands to himself and does a bit of writing. Tim honestly can't tell if he's writing poetry or plotting his revenge upon the circus. And Tim feels a twinge in his chest. He has to survive this for them. He can't leave them. He can't leave them alone. It scares him that Jon and Martin could die in...whatever their plan ends up being. It scares him, and he won't let them die. And... and if he can survive to keep protecting them, he has to.   
He makes curry. Good and hot and filling. Seasoned to Jon's preferences.   
He's cooked side by side with Jon before. It's been a long time, between the baggage between them and Jon's recent illness and injuries, but he can hope Jon will cook with him again.   
Jon is slightly revived by then, and feels safe enough to let himself be held, both during the parade of Buzzfeed Unsolved supernatural episodes and beyond that, once the three of them are tucked safely in Tim's bed. Jon in the middle. Martin and Tim shielding him from the world. So what if Tim sleeps with a baseball bat propped up next to his bed? So what if Martin has resumed sleeping with a corkscrew? They have Jon back, and they will not be losing him ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one I wrote last week for my bingo prompts! I have started writing the another, but please be patient with me I got very behind doing things while I was writing so much and now I am mostly caught up but the serotonin and motivation levels are low. I am still accepting bingo prompts, but again it might be slow going for a bit. Let me know if you want art or fic and which character you want! (Pro tip, I am much faster at the art). I am captaincravatthecapricious on tumblr as well! Please comment if you enjoyed! And have a lovely day!


	3. Feverish and Teary & How Long Has it Been Since You've Eaten- Prompt Fill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon, Tim, and Martin have a rough time after the Unknowing. Especially Jon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CWs: nausea, vomiting, fainting, fever, food mention, alcohol mention, canon typical mentions of Tim's pre-unknowing mindset, canon typical Jon not taking care of himself.

The Unknowing blows up. 

As simple as that. 

All according to plan. 

It really is as simple as that. 

Jon, Tim, Daisy, Basira.Piled back in Daisy's car.Ears ringing.Soot slowly settling.Trying to drive away before the actually police get there. 

It hasn't been Jon's problem how to avoid arrest. 

He is even more glad it isn't his problem now, as he slides down the beat up seat in the back of Daisy's car.Ash streaks the window, mixing with the light rains that is starting to fall. 

Jon tries not to vomit the nothing he's eaten in the last couple days.Nothing in him but frayed nerves and statements.Hadn't even managed to stomach dramamine before their trip. 

Jon just wants to sleep. 

They still have their hotel reservation for another couple hours, so Daisy drives them back there to clean up before heading back to London.Yes they have to go back today, it's less suspicious.Jon isn't sure if that is actually true, but he doesn't have the energy to argue. 

Tim showers.Jon sends a text to Martin.'Alive.' 

He doesn't answer Martin's near-immediate call because just then he's dry-heaving into the small bin in the corner.Stiff and shaking and sweaty and miserable. 

Jon showers.Too dizzy to stand, he sits on the shower floor.He hates that.The tub feels filthy.He feels filthy.He scrubs his skin raw.He stands.He throws up more nothing.He scrubs himself again, leaning heavily on the wall. 

He wants to talk to Tim.He wants to tuck himself into Tim's arms and never move again.Christ, he's running an impressive fever.Probably.It's hard to tell.And his brain is swimming too much to even think about asking the Eye. 

He's cold.He shivers in his threadbare joggers and stolen jumper (Martin's). 

He wants to join Tim on the bed by the window, but Tim ...looks too deep in a melancholy thought to even notice.Somewhere between losing his drive for anything, adrenaline crash, and losing the last hope of a last glimpse of Danny, if Jon were to guess. 

Jon could say something.He knows he could.But, hasn't he caused enough of a fuss?Made Tim and Martin trail after him after the ...the.... with Daisy and... that.If he'd have just stayed quiet and stayed still... well Tim would still hate him... and might not be alive... but ....but he's caused so much worry with that.And then with... his other kidnapping No.He can't think about what that... what... not without puking again which... the point is not to worry Tim.Which means he should try some medicine again.... if he can keep it in him half an hour he'll survive the drive back.Probably. 

Christ, when is the last time he bothered to drink anything? 

He lays there in a daze until Daisy bangs on the door telling them it's time to leave. 

Tim sleeps on the drive back.Finally giving into the last few sleepless nights.Jon is jealous. 

Last night had been spent tangled together, shaking, awake, and silent.Anxiety too thick to slice with words.Not even nothing to turn off the lights, because the fear is a little easier to manage in the light.Jon couldn't stop thinking about Nikola.He couldn't stop thinking about plastic hands on him.Couldn't stop thinking about how many things could go wrong and how he could lose Tim and Martin when he only just got Tim back. 

Jon was pretty sure Tim hadn't been sleeping the last few nights.Jon knows he hasn't.Not that he has slept well in a long time. 

In any case, Tim sleeps.Jon doesn't. 

Daisy glares at him through the review mirror.Jon isn't sure if she is still waiting for him to prove himself monstrous so she can attack, or if she is making sure he isn't ill in her car... again.(He really wishes he could forget his first ride in her car.Really really really wishes.It was not a pleasant experience for anyone, and Daisy had made him pay the cleaning bill.) 

It doesn't matter, he slides down further in his seat and closes his eyes tightly. 

His head hurts. 

Thankfully the medicine knocks him out soon enough. 

Martin greets them at the institute door.Melanie by his side. 

Jon hazily wakes up to Martin gently touching his shoulder. 

"You actually made it!I'm so glad you're safe... I was so worried, Jon why didn't you answer your phone, I've been so worried, I mean I know you would have said something if something had happened, but Christ I've been so worried about you, come here." 

Jon starts mumbling some apologies, but is interrupted by Martin gently gathering him in a hug.Jon sinks into it, fervently hoping Martin doesn't notice the heat rolling off of him. 

Thankfully Martin is too distracted, gathering Tim in a crushing embrace.Likely very relieved that Tim didn't die, and knowing Tim is harder to break than Jon with his delicate bones and fragility following many incidents. 

Jon... doesn't really know what he's trying to accomplish.Just... get out?Or go in?Or get to the cot?Or just curl up on the cold tile of the basement toilets?Get away from people he will inevitably worry? 

Just go somewhere where he can fall apart without taking anyone else down with him. 

It looks like Martin has been crying.Jon hopes it isn't over him. 

Tim needs to recover from the emotional toll of the last few days without having to pick up the pieces after Jon Again. 

Jon slowly backs away. 

His head is swimming, but that's okay.If he can just reach the Archives.The cot.Anywhere.Anywhere away from this moment.This breath. 

His vision swims violently, and there is no doubt in his mind that he is going to be very well acquainted with the pavement in a matter of seconds.Either that or he's going to be ill?No.Sidewalk.He's going to eat the sidewalk.Heh... first thing he'll have eaten in days. 

He isn't sure if he loses consciousness or not.It's hard to tell in the blur of motion and sounds and his spinning head.Sound is almost gooey in this state of almost unconsciousness, but he thinks someone might be shouting.Or several someones.He should maybe worry about this?But in actuality, he is praying he properly passes out to save himself any more embarrassment and save himself from his unsteady insides. 

His face hurts. 

Someone is holding him. 

Jon fights to open his eyes.They don't seem to want to look in the same direction, rolling in their sockets instead of doing what he wants them to.He blinks hard a few times, failing to bring things into focus.Glasses?Does he still have those?Did they break?No... still there.Skewed on his face.Just... too dizzy to see, then. 

Daisy and Basira are glaring at him.Melanie is walking away.Possibly.Hard to tell when the world is tilting with unsteady regularity. 

Jon closes his eyes again, pressing a groan against the nausea that threatens to overcome him, despite the medicine. 

"Jon?" 

"Burning up."

He's too hazy to put a name to a voice.The words dripping in the air around him, tightening around his chest, silly string sitting on his skin in fibrous heaps that jiggle uncomfortably, cold and clammy. 

Shit, thinking in gibberish.That can't be good. 

“Does anyone know how long he’s been ill?” 

Someone grunts. 

Footsteps.Two sets?I’m asking away.Leaving him.

“I.... I don’t know.I don’t think he was feverish last night?But... I haven’t exactly been... It’s.It’s been hard.”

“Jon?”

He’s being jostled. He whines.Stomach flopping dangerously.

"Jon?Are you awake?Can you open your eyes for me?" 

"Oh shit, he's gonna puke." 

He's being lifted, shifted on his side, bin shoved in his hands.Where he throws up more nothing. 

He's crying now, feeling like utter shit, and unfortunately more awake. 

He isn't sure if eyes swimming with tears is better or worse than the unsteady world tipping around him and making him feel worse. 

"Christ, Jon!" 

He finally pries his eyes open.Martin and Tim solidify above him.More or less.Still fuzzing in and out of focus. 

Now that he's crying, he just... can't stop.Fistfuls of Martin's sweater. 

"Oh Jon..."Martin's arms circle him, carefully.Gentle not to jostle him more. 

"Buddy.Think we can get you off the sidewalk?"Tim.Cupping his face.Smoothing back sweat and tear soaked hair, long since escaped his bun, still not dried from his earlier shower."My flat isn't far, you know?Didn't bring my car here, though.Still... wasn't..."

Tim cuts himself off, but even addled as he is, Jon can fill in the rest of the sentence. 

So can Martin apparently, because Martin frowns.It's never been more apparent that he's been crying quite recently."Still weren't sure you were coming home...Tim..."And his eyes start looking damp. 

Tim is tearing up now."Martin... let's not in the street...I can carry Jon back to mine, it isn't far.You can come too.We'll get some take out.Drink some whiskey.Get Mr. Smoking hot cooled off.We can talk then.It's.... it's been a rough week." 

"Jon?Can I carry you?I think that might be less rough than a cab ride?Do you need a few minutes?" 

Martin's voice is soft, and Jon thinks he could sleep right there.In fact, he might.So he nods. 

Martin lifts him carefully.His head swims again.This all is feeling rather familiar.Jon takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.He tries to relax despite the lingering anxieties about heights.Martin feels safe.Tim is also safe now.He lets himself drift. 

He wakes briefly on the trip.

"Hey bud, how are you feeling?"Tim.Tim seems off.Too many things crossing his face to parse out, probably even for someone with a better sense than Jon of what those subtle face changes mean.But Jon is too hazy to think. 

Jon's mouth feels gummed up.His eyes feel gummed up. 

He's thankful his mouth doesn't taste like something died in it, though.Although he is very aware how unhealthy it was that he's spent a good portion of the day with his body trying to turn itself inside out, and he couldn't so much as produce bile. 

Jon feels sick thinking about it, so stops.He drifts again. 

He wakes to a damp rag on his forehead, no memory of anything past the explosion.

How did he get here?

"Sorry, that looked like a nice sleep, but you'll feel better with some medicine in you, and some water.We can try some tea later, once the meds work.And some food hopefully." 

Martin helping him sit up.Just enough to get a few sips and some pills into Jon.Which, Jon thought was probably optimistic, but he'd try it for Martin. 

"When was the last time you ate?" Martin again. 

Jon blinks at him in confusion."Is it over?" 

"Is what over?"Still Martin. 

Where's Tim?Where's Daisy?Where's Basira?Where's Melanie?

His breathing picks up, and that makes his head spin again, and makes him wonder just how long he can keep the medicine down. 

"Is it over, what happened?"He's panting now, halfway to a panic attack. 

"Jon?Jon!Calm down.Can you take a breath for me?" 

How did he get here?Where is he?This looks like Tim's flat, but there is Tim?Did he survive. 

Jon reaches for anything.But comes up blank. 

"Where's Tim?What happened?"He gasps out.It feels like his ribcage is shrinking, being laced up the front. fighter than the corset he had worn in acting class in uni. 

"Tim's... taking a moment.As soon as we got you here... he.... it's been rough on him, you know?He did all this for... and I know he said he wanted to live.He wants to live... but he's... not been in a good place and it's helped that you two are talking again... and that he's had company more... but he saw an old picture with.... with his brother.... and that polaroid with ... with Sasha.Well, he keeps going between you know tearful and sorry and cackling about how everything blew up.It's... probably a lot to have three revenge schemes going at once for the same.... not a person really... but ... Her.And then... having it sorted.But...Listen Jon I don't know.What don't you remember... or what's the last thing you remember?"Martin edges on histerical near the middle, but takes a turn for the sad near the end. 

"I remember the... the world was all wrong.Then... then it blew up.Is it over?Martin are you real.Is everyone alive?What happened to you?"He's desperate.Desperate breaths too shallow.Words interrupted by jagged pulling of too thin oxygen.He's going to pass out. 

He does. 

He wakes feeling... clearer.The last period of wakefulness a distant and flighty thing, dancing just out of his reach.The rest of the embarrassing day back in vivid detail.Tim's sitting over him.Or rather, curled around him.Jon's hair is being played with.A stray curl looped around Tim's finger as he laughs softly to himself.Muttering that he's alive.That Jon's alive.That Martin is alive.he didn't lose anyone else.That that clown is finally dead.Finally. 

Gentle and warm hand on his face, refreshing the cloth.Checking his temperature. 

"I..."Tim chokes on a sob.And Jon tries to remember how his arms work so he can let Tim know he's there. 

"Tim?" 

"Hey bud... sorry."Tim wipes his eyes on his sleeve."It's been a hell of a week.I... don't know how to feel about it.Fuck I need a drink....And to check in with Martin.I... he hasn't told me what happened, but he's upset.And.Fuck I should have noticed you were ill, why didn't you say anything?"Tim's voice starts to rise, and Jon tenses.All the times Tim yelled at him still too fresh in his mind.He trusts Tim.he does... but Christ he is still afraid.Afraid that it can't last, that it isn't real.Where it be a trick of his mind, or some manipulation tactic to an end Jon can't see, he doesn't know. 

"Hey.Hey.Buddy... Jon.I'm sorry.didn't mean to yell.It's just... been a day.I'm not mad at you.I just... I'm worried about you and Martin and I...I don't know how to feel about everything that happened.I'm sorry you feel like shit."

Jon feels... like shit.Marginally less nauseous, however.A little less like he's going to pass out again.Probably been given plenty of pills by Martin. 

"Sorry."He croaks.Voice probably shredded with smoke.And fever. 

"He, bud, don't apologize.I'm sorry I didn't notice you weren't well.I... I thought I knew better than to be that preoccupied.I mean... I guess I didn't make it worse this time, but..."Tim sighs."I'm disappointed in myself because I don't want to fuck this up again.And no don't apologize again part of that was on me and yes part of that was on you and we've done apologies to death.All we can do now is keep going.I just wanted to protect you and I couldn't see you were fading in front of my eyes.Again.I know you haven't been eating or sleeping, but I haven't been either so I didn't want to call you on it, and I didn't want you to call me on it, but I should have noticed.I know I couldn't have done much, but I didn't do anything but shut you out again.I could have told someone to stop to get you medicine, or food or even a bit more rest.I know that would have done fuck-all, but I still could have offered you a little comfort and warmth and had us brought straight back here." 

Tim's crying properly now.Jon is too.Not sure if it is the fever, or just... everything.There is so much to feel and think and worry about and yes they saved the world but that the fuck comes next. 

What comes next is that Martin enters with tea for Jon and a bottle of whiskey. 

Jon scrubs at his eyes."Martin what happened?"Jon can see he's been crying again.That is starting to scare him.It's a goddamn miracle he hasn't pulled an answer out of anyone yet today. 

"It's... well it isn't fine.I... well our plan worked here too.Just... you know... Elias.He can.... He can do things.It's fine.It's worth it."Martin swipes at his eyes furiously. 

Jon pushes himself up, ignoring the room tilting around him, and hugs Martin.Jon's still crying.Martin sniffling.Tim also crying.It's... a very damp hug.And Jon knows he's too warm to be comfortable to hold, and he's shivering hard enough to rattle Tim and Martin. 

"I'm... I'm so sorry Martin."Jon chokes out. 

"It's alright.It was worth it.And you both.Christ I am so glad to see you again... I thought... I thought.... I didn't..."Martin is fully sobbing now.Tea set down on Tim's bedside table, the whiskey being pried from his hands by TIm. 

Late that night the bottle is empty (and so are a couple more), Tim and Martin have killer headaches, and Jon is still feverish, but less so.A lot of tears have been shed.And Jon has been plied with enough liquids that he feels a little less like a crumbling husk. 

By the time that Tim and Martin are ready to think about food, Jon is finally feeling like he can maybe stomach something.They order takeout.Jon... has some broth.

By morning Jon manages a few bites of leftovers. 

By afternoon, Elias Bushard is arrested. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Come find me at captaincravatthecapricious on tumblr! Let me know if you enjoyed! I am still accepting bingo prompts, so let me know which character, which prompt, and if you want a drawing of a fic!

**Author's Note:**

> Send me more prompts! Send me a character, a prompt, and tell me if you want an art or a fic!!!!!! I am captaincravatthe capricious on tumblr! Please let me know if you like this fic. Your comments mean the world to me and encourage me to keep creating!


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